What Might Have Been
by Princess180
Summary: Random, slightly depressing drabbles set after my fic 'Merry Christmas, Love.' If you haven't read that, it's in an AU where Spike and Buffy got together just after Potential.


The Best Things 

If she could have her way she'd stay like this forever. Lying in his arms while they both pretend to sleep so they won't have to deal with any of the rest of the people who have somehow taken over her house in the past few months. She know he's only pretending because his lips aren't moving against her neck like they do when he's truly asleep, and he, she can only assume, knows by her heartbeat. He hasn't said anything, but there was an infinitesimal tightening of his arms as she opened her eyes.

She loves the intimacy of just _sleeping_ with him. The way his body winds around hers- a hairy calf cushioned between her smooth ones, his lips pressed to her back, her foot cushioned between his. It's possibly the best thing in the world. That or his kisses, his eyes, a stolen moment with him during they're busy days, their time at the end of the nights. Or perhaps just him. She hasn't quite decided yet.

"BUFFY! He's doing it again!" Dawn screams down the stairs, "and we're out of tampons." She grumbles slightly, but pretends not to hear the screeching of her sister, the momentary feeling of guilt replaced by the knowledge that even five more minutes of this peace is worth it.

"We should get out of bed, pet," he says, eventually, marring the silence. She continues to pretend, and with a chuckle, he pulls her closer.

Yes, this is definitely the best thing in the world.

Need 

Xander knew this was coming, had known for a long time that it had to come eventually. But not like this, not quite words in the morning and subtle touches when they're needed. He'd expected that this relationship, in all its uncertainties, would have to be fire and passion. But it doesn't, or at least, not like he thought. Yes, they can't keep their hands of each other, but not in a groiny way, in a holding-myself-up way. They need each other and that scares him.

After all, he remembers what happened last time she needed someone. But, even to his pessimistic eye, this is different. This is real.

To Each Thing it's Time 

Perhaps he was right, after all, now is not the time for lovers. Now is not the time for this incipient happiness seeping through the normally subdued house. He watches as the girl smile going about their duties, because she's happy, because the power of her incessant smiling is hitting everyone hard. It's been so long since she's let anything but a grin slip for more than a few seconds.

It's been so long since he's seen her like this that he doesn't quite know how to deal with it. Should he lecture because she's distracted from her duty? Should he congratulate because she's found love? Should he just screech incoherently until someone, _anyone_ understand the twelve kinds of wrong their relationship is?

Evil One 

"No."

"But, honey it's just that we don't have any…"

"Bit hid it in the pantry."

"No… I used it on my shirt."

"All three things of it?"

"Yeah… it's really white and shiny now."

"_Dawn_."

"I just want to know what colour your hair is, baby."

"No."

Pout.

"No."

"We really don't have any peroxide, Spike."

"Are pigs flyin' now, too?"

"Do it for me…" Pout.

"Stop it with the faces, both of you. I'm bleachin' it."

"Angel took me ice skating and you won't even grow your-"

"And they say I'm evil." Contented smirk.

"So, no more peroxide bombshell?"

**Always Mine. **

Please, please, please prove that I'm wrong. Be a demon. Be something else but the champion inside. Prove me wrong. Make me call Angel back, bring him back.

"It's powerful… we don't-"

"You'll be needin' someone strong to wear it, then. You were gonna give it to Andrew?"

Good idea. Andrew. Xander. Giles. Robin. Faith. The telephone repair guy. A potential. Anyone but you. I can't live without you. I love you so much.

"It's meant for a champion."

"Well."

Take the credit. Great idea. Selfishness. Egotism. Not the marks of a champion. My champion. I wish I weren't so certain. Wish I could have told Angel this was his fight. Let him bear whatever burden this is. Wish I could have you forever.

"Where's dear old granda then?"

_Mine. Always. Always mine. I can feel the marks on my neck even now. I offered it to you only a few days ago. You didn't want it. I'm marked now. Yours. Always. Forever. But I'm the slayer, I'm not stupid. This thing means death for you. I can't take that. We're mated. That's always. Always. Always. _

"LA."

"You're not wearin' it."

Stupid vampire. Reading my mind. It was a good plan though. More than human but with a soul. Covers half the people in this house. But you… you and your hard-won soul. You are a champion. And mine. You have a scar on your neck too. Mated, is that what they call it? I can feel it, always feel you, now. I couldn't take it. Emptiness after being so full. 

"I'm a champion."

"Yeah, and you've already got something shiny."

Snarky. I used to hate that, the way you could fight whatever I dished out. My equal. Is that what I was looking for? Angel was stronger than I am. Riley weaker. But you… our dance. No one won, no one lost. I guess now would be an opportune time to start talking about how we all won in the end. But if you die… I will be truly lost.

"Can't we just go to bed?"

"You're not bloody wearin' it."

You're right, you know. I'm not. You are a champion. I know I've said it a thousand times, but you're

mine. Angel was never mine. I was never Riley's. Possession. Lust. Desire. Love. Trust. Friendship.

Support. I've had them all before. But never in one place. One man. And you are, you know, a man, my man. My everything. Please, please, please don't take it. Give it to me. Let me die again. Let me take your place.

"It's dangerous."

"So'm I."

_I hand it to you, and that's when the tears start, knowing I've just killed you. You don't understand. Even with our new bond it's completely beyond you why there are fat tears rolling down my cheeks. So you do all that you can. Pull me up against you, onto my bed. We've got a few minutes before the potentials come in, and you'll hold me. _


End file.
